


The Doctor Finally Gets Some Rest

by embarrassingresultofmyfreetime



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Gen, Missy helps the Doctor sleep, Missy is nice and the Doctor doesn't know how to handle it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-12 07:37:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17463329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/embarrassingresultofmyfreetime/pseuds/embarrassingresultofmyfreetime
Summary: The Doctor promised to guard Missy for 1000 years but when Missy learns that The Doctor has trouble sleeping, she doesn't mind returning the favor.





	The Doctor Finally Gets Some Rest

**Author's Note:**

> This was really calming for me to write so I hope it helps someone else too lol  
> // = italics  
> I'm on mobile so I can't fix it yet, sorry  
> I'll try to soon lol

The Doctor sat in a chair that oversaw the main Tardis controls. He pretended to pay attention to Missy as she calibrated the Tardis's systems but he was much more occupied by the electric guitar in his hands.

He propped up one foot on another nearby chair and fiddled with it's tuning pegs. The usual whoshing noises of the Tardis felt like a calming white noise to him as he let himself rest, just for once.

Missy pretending to be of service by running diagnostics and calibrating systems made it much easier for him to excuse her being there.

1000 years he had promised to guard her. At his side certainly wasn't the safest place to be, by any account; but it was definately safest for the universe when Missy was preoccupied. The more Missy helped out, the easier it was for the Doctor to justify her being there.

He strummed away at the guitar without even noticing. He played the beginning of several songs he didn't finish. Instead, he stopped after barely the into before switching to something completely different. Most were songs from his childhood that he had nearly forgotten but a few were other things he had picked up. A few chords were in rememberence to Clara and a different set reminded him of Missy. So cold yet so firmiliar that it made him feel warm inside.

He felt his surroundings lulled him into a haze. It had been so long since he had been completely calm. He felt like he was always on guard, always having to watch out for the next danger. He always felt entirely responsible for anyone he brought aboard his ship.

But Missy?

She made him feel calm. He found himself trusting her for some reason. The kind of trust that allowed him to close his eyes and think about other things than what attrocities could be happening while he wasn't paying attention.

He'd taken on the responsibility to help where he could, when he could- and he didn't regret it.

Not for a second.

But having Missy there, knowing that if anything were to happen she was as good as he at detecting if something was wrong; it just made him feel... safe.  
The hum of the Tardis engines, the gurgling whirl of its calculations running through, the additional soft whirling of Missy's calibrations taking place. Even the way Missy softly whispered to herself as she figured out the Tardis systems somehow grounded him, even soothed him.

He must have dazed off because the next second he could feel the heavy guitar being lifted ever so gently off his chest. He must have been sleeping deeper than he had realized because he simply assumed the intrament was sliding off him anyways so, without moving anything more than his left arm, he tried to set it onto the ground next to him. It fell away without a noise where he meant for it to hit the ground but he didn't notice. His eyes remained closed and his breathing was still soft with sleep.

In the guitar's place fell a coat. It was soft and already warm and the Doctor mistook it for his own. In the confusion of sleep he moved the arm he had thought he'd just set down the guitar with and pulled to coat closer to his chest.

When he woke up again it was with a start. He sat directly up in his chair, causing the leg he had had propped up to fall. His heel hit the hard ground and the Doctor slid out of his chair in surprise.

He would have hit the side of his face against the ground but a soft fabric spared him the injury. He didn't notice as he leapt up to his feet.

"How did you get in here!" He shouted angrily, his voice projecting strongly through the room.

His brain had registered the sound of feet on the opposing staircase as an intruder and the pillar in the center of the room prevented him from getting a good look at who it was.

The blood rushed to his head, filling his eyes with stars, as he hurried to his feet. He nearly fell down the stairs as he realized he was about to step on his guitar- but as he stumbled to reach the metal railing, he suddenly realized it wasn't there. He whipped his head around as his eyes cleared to find that the instrament was stood up on it's stand several meters away. A purple fabric near his shoes also caught his eye and he leaned over to pick up an incredably firmiliar purple coat.

When had that gotten there?

He didn't have time to contemplate the thought as he nearly leapt down the stairs to get a glimpse at whoever else was in the room with him.

"Calm down! It's just me." Missy's sing-songy voice. Her words were firm but not with the same harshness that she usually spoke with. Her feet were frozen, mid-step, as the Doctor finally identified her.

The Doctor put his hand to the side of his forehead, fingers running through his hair in shame.

"I'm sorry." He said, turning away.

Within seconds Missy was at his side.

"Are you okay?"

She seemed to look right through him so the Doctor purposely kept one hand at the side of his face to stop her from seeing the extent of his expression.

"Of course I am." He said grumpily, trying to brush her away.

He tried to head back up the stairs but Missy grabbed at one of his arms and blocked his path.

"You can tell me if you're not. You were out for quite a while and the last thing I need is for you to have fallen ill!"

Her words were harsh but clearly full of genuine worry.  
The Doctor looked down to avoid meeting her eyes. He almost smiled.

"Just tired. I-"

Suddenly his eyes fell upon her shirt. Her /shirt/- not the easily identifyable purple jacket that matched her skirt. Somehow he hadn't realized until that moment that the fabric that had slid off him when he had woken up, that had been keeping him warm while he slept, had been Missy's jacket.

The Doctor had never been good with clothes but somehow she looked... less threatening. Something about the act- the very caring, very simple act- seemed to remove a wall between them.

He realized she must have been the one to put his guitar back as well.

"What is it?" She asked. "Are you sure you're alright?"  
She put the back of her hand to his forehead,  
"You look quite pale-"

The Doctor hurried away.

He wasn't sure what it was. Maybe the good sleep was causing his brain to over think things, or maybe waking up with such a scare had thrown him off.

All he knew was that Missy's worrying about him was-  
He wasn't sure what the feeling was but it made his chest hurt in all kinds of weird ways. It wasn't anything like the love you think of when you imagine you share your life with, nor was it hate. It wasn't even fear or annoyance. It was a feeling from far down in his hearts and from so long ago that it didn't have a label.

Missy was so harsh and cruel. The Doctor /knew/ it was dangerous to care for her. He knew it would hurt. But this wasn't that same kind of pain. She was cold and selfish- and yet when she /knew/ that no one was watching, that nothing would be gained; she still showed kindness.

He must have forgotten she could do that.

She hadn't tried to wake him or take the Tardis somewhere she wasn't suppose to- he would know- or do any of the other numerous things she could have done while he was asleep.

It hurt in a way the Doctor didn't understand. He knew that he would care about her until the day he would never breathe another breath- but he never thought she could ever truely feel that completely innocent, raw affection the Doctor felt. Much less return it.

He wanted to do what he always did. To run.

Instead he hurried back up the small stairs and picked up her coat.

He tossed it to her without looking and she caught it effortlessly.

"How long was I out?" He asked sharply.

He walked away from her. He headed across the higher level that oversaw the main area of the Tardis. He passed his guitar, still on it's stand, and a bookshelf. He kept along the railing at his right.

Missy followed him slowly, staring up at him from the slightly lower level. Her steps were slow and reminded the Doctor of a dance.

"Not long."

Missy shrugged, analyzing him under her sharp eyes.  
The Doctor knew she wanted him to look at her but he didn't.

The Doctor ran one hand over his face.

"Did I miss anything?"

"Not really." Missy replied flatly.

The Doctor was running out of walkway and he felt like he couldn't think.

"Where are we?"

"Still where we were before."

Missy words were indifferent. Like she knew that she didn't need to prod at him because even silence would crack him eventually.

The Doctor really was running out of walkway. His blood was racing through him but was nothing compared to the speed of his thoughts.

"Missy-"

"Come here, dear."

Her words hit him like a block of ice. They were blunt and froze every one of the thoughts racing through his head.

He found himself hurrying down the next staircase and finding himself in her arms.

"I don't like hugging," he said, burying his face in her shoulder.

"I know, dear."

She held him close and they stayed like that for longer than the Doctor would ever dare to admit.

Finally, he pulled away.

"Did I give you a scare?" Missy asked softly.

"Something like that," The Doctor replied, finally pulling himself together, "I suppose I'm not used to having anyone here when nothing's happening. I- I thought someone had broken in somehow."

He gestured one hand towards the doors.

"I understand." Missy said, surprisingly gently, "I know you're the one suppose to be guarding me but- how about I guard you? You're clearly exhausted and frankly it's embarrasing."

The Doctor scoffed but smiled slightly. He finally met her eyes.

"Just don't tell anyone."

Missy didn't smile.

"Does it haunt you?" She asked inquisitively.

The Doctor only smiled a little more, "Everything haunts me."

"Alright-y then." Missy's tone became more firm, "You're going to get some rest."

The Doctor raised his powerful eyebrows, suddenly surprised.

"I'm sorry?"

"You heard me. I'm going to get a book, and you're going to rest and that's the last I'll hear of it."

She picked up her coat from where she's set it down amd then grabbed the Doctor's hand.

She pulled him along for a little while before finally finding a bedroom.

"Good to know it stays in the same place."

"Good to know it what?!" The Doctor replied.

Missy only shoved him off.

"Go brush your teeth."

She shut the door in his face.

The Doctor signed but reluctantly did as he was told. When he returned, Missy was casually sitting on the part of the bed furthest from him, reading a book. Her coat was resting on the corner of the bed to her right and she appeared to have taken her shoes off, despite her feet being hidden under her skirt. She sat with her legs crossed and her back against a pillow and the headboard. She didn't say a thing as he stood in the doorway.

When he finally stepped into the room she spoke,  
"Good choice. Come on now, you're not a puppy. I shouldn't have to treat you like one."

She patted the space on the bed to her left without ever looking away from her book.

The Doctor wandered over and tossed himself on top of the sheets like an annoyed child.

He layed there on his back, head on the pillow, ankles crossed, and hands folded together over his stomach.

Missy continued to look at her book but the Doctor watched as her eyes remained fixed rather than moving across each line, despite being able to read incredably fast. She seemed to be waiting to see what the Doctor would do.

The went on for some time until the Doctor finally turned to his side and close his eyes. He hadn't realize how tired he still was until then, but something still wouldn't let him rest. He usually only slept if it was his the only other option than passing out, but he did have to admit that he /wanted/ to sleep. He wished it was as easy as it sounded.

Missy, the Master, his best friend, the only person like him, was there sitting next to him- and he didn't want to know what she was thinking.

She seemed to know that the Time War still haunted him, that every friend he'd lost or death he'd seen still weighed on him. He wished they didn't but he couldn't refuse to feel. He didn't want to be come like what killed them.

The weight was part of the reason he didn't like being alone. The reason he brought friends with him even when he knew what tragedies could await them.

He wouldn't dare forget them but remembering hurt like Hell-

Missy suddenly began to rub his back. It was gentle and calming and the Doctor was almost embarrased by being treated like an upset child, but he let it continue.

He felt himself begin to relax, not even realizing how tense he was. Missy's touch was like a tether to reality and he loved every second of it.

"Better?" Missy asked gently.

The Doctor simply took a deep breath. His mind clearing.

He began to fall asleep as he felt Missy set her coat over him. It was almost poetic, like she was trying to shield him by shedding some of her own defenses.

The Doctor decided it was rather fitting as he fell away into a comfortable, quiet rest.


End file.
